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Our Terror Closet

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"Honey," I called out to my wife. "Why do we have Spam in the closet?" "You mean unsolicited bulk messages sent electronically?" "No--the canned, precooked meat product made by the Hormel Corporation."

Cleverbot conversation RSC00206460

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maybe if I bat my lashes just right, or look prim enough to fly, you just might touch me tonight, and the dream will pop and fizz and I will wake somewhere, your hands smoothing these lines of worry away.

Just Another Plebian — Err, Philistine!

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I hate your guts.

Outing

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My friend and I were arranging the things in my closet because we literally had nothing to do but he found himself in my house again, which he described to me like a disease...

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 1

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In those days everyone ate poetry for lunch. It was considered essential for your good up-bringing and mental health. We would skip a meal in order to satisfy our hunger for words. To hell with a meal. To hell with dirty politics and meaningless wars on o

Big City

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She takes her hamburgers medium rare and the pickles remind her of the taste of last night's penis before she stuffed the stranger's apologies in a jar.

No Title

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She spilled her neurons across the dissecting board of the violin, breathed deep and forced herself outward with every exhalation. Her molecules mixed with wax and horsehair, and her heart valves arched in unison.

The Fool on the Hill

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It is wonderful to talk to Mick Jagger in his hotel room. He is absolutely charming, and the women filling the room seem as natural as the sound of rain or the play of sunlight.

Letters from the Asylum (1)

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I'll be honest, and tell you that I am in a bad way. The weather is very hot up here, extremely so, almost hellish.

Want

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I want you closeI want to feel youinside me,softening me untilmy borders are blurredand I'm hardly breathing,my heart swellingso big itbrings me to my knees,I want to know thepain of losing youeach time youclose your eyes andgo to sleep anddream of someone else,I want to…

All God's Children

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Momma wakes us up early while Daddy's still asleep, pulls out white poster boards, markers from the closet, and together, we draw babies...

Myra's Lesson

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There’s no training course available for kids in love. You can watch your parents, you can watch other kids, but for the most part it’s all trial and error, and I'm still pretty shaky at almost all of it.

Let's Do It In the Mud

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Then I got another letter, but this time it was from my friend Andy, warning me that he’d seen Miller riding around with Lynda, driving her grandparent’s Dodge with Lynda sitting right up against his side, and his arm was around her. I saw red. I went

Blonde on Blonde

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Happens at a party, this way, past frat boys perched in branches like idiot hoot owls,

THE AUDIT

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During the audit...

Of the smokers I’ve kissed

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The man next to me on the Shinkansen from Tokyo to Kyoto makes me think of the smokers I’ve kissed.

Moses Reborn

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Influenza Jones knew she was Moses. Reborn, of course, because the real Moses had been dead for longer than Influenza could remember. It didn’t matter that she was a woman and Moses was a man, she knew what her body say and her body say she be Moses. Sh

PUISSANCE du PISSANTS

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Not like a Palestinian mother clinging to her baby shot through the belly or the baby clinging to the last moments of life in the arms of his father who, when the life departed, held him up over his head

Carpe Tempus

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Now all I have left is yesterdays.

EXAMINATION

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I had the idea while I was in the county jail. I would get jail glasses; I wouldn’t be me; I’d be some other person. I could pretend that it was someone else rotting away in that 8x12 cell.

Lilies

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Every spring, outside on the back deck, my mother and I have the same talk about how time flies, and she always waves her hand in the air as if swatting at a fly, but there's never anything there. She thinks the lilies will live all summer spread like a rainbow,…

On The Stoop

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The leaves were meaningless because they were no longer connected to the trees.

I Once Knew a Sparkledrop

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"And then I, and I believe, I alone, saw this small child run..."

ID

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He does not read what he’s giving them permission to do to him, just signs the release.

1992, What I Wanted

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I once dreamed of taking a trip to Northumbria with a lover and reading the poem together on the fells.

Game Night

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We’re all competitive and drunk.

Bible Stories for Atheist Babysitters

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What the five-year-old I baby sit for wanted to do yesterday was torture his Barbies. “Why would you want to do that?” I asked.“Because we're bad guys!” said Hanina. “Can't we be good guys?”“Not today. Today we're bad…

Epistemology (Revised 2019)

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RE: The big stuff: We don’t know RE: The small stuff: Half of what you believe is true but you will never know which half

What I told the police the morning after

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Miracles don’t happen to the poor.

City Fragment Thru A Fractured Lens

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I Tinseled nebulae scatter, couples dance the dance of meridians, as seekers of that dream that does not seek; but so are we, but sense everything shall become antique, that the tragic is everything. Reverent this loneliness. Giving…